ld
be, no matter what my husband was to me.

"So I went back to Aunt Katrina (as Lanse preferred). And I told
nothing.

"I have no doubt I appeared cold enough. In the beginning there _was_ a
good deal of coldness, though there was always suffering underneath; but
later it wasn't coldness, it was the constant effort to hide--I had
thought my life difficult. But I had yet to learn that there was
something more difficult still. I had not loved Lanse--no; but now I was
finding out what love meant, for--for I began to love--you."

Winthrop started, the color rushed up and covered his face in a flood;
in his eyes shone the transforming light of a happiness which had never
been there before. For this man, in spite of his successes, had never
attained much positive happiness for himself in life; Lanse, Lucian,
many another idler, attained more. Happiness is an inconsistent goddess,
by no means has she always a crown for strenuous effort; very often she
seems to dwell longest with those who do not think beyond the morrow;
there she sits and basks. However, she had come to Winthrop now, and
royally, bringing him that which he cared the most for. He thanked her
by his glowing face, his ardent eyes.

"It's nothing to be glad about," Margaret had said, quickly, when she
saw the change in his face. "I tell you because I cannot endure that you
should believe of me what you thought--about Lanse. And also because I
am weak--yes, I confess it. You said you intended to see me, follow me;
but now that you know how it is with me, you won't do that."

Winthrop's face remained triumphant. "Odd reasoning, Margaret."

"The best reasoning. So long as it was only you, you could do as you
pleased. But now that you know that--that others will suffer too--" She
paused. "I am sure I have not trusted you in vain?" she said,
appealingly.

But he shook his head, the triumph still animated him. "You can trust me
in one way; I won't take advantage, that is, not now. But you needn't
try to make me think, Margaret, that it's not something to be glad
about--to know that you care for me." He laughed a little from his sheer
satisfaction; then, in his old way, he put his hands compactly down in
the pockets of his coat, and stood there looking at her.

"Is it anything to be glad about--my wretchedness?" she asked,
strengthening herself for the contest.

"It makes you wretched? Strange!"

"I am so wretched--I have been wretched so long--that only my